Broken Escapement
by prdee
Summary: Sometimes, even the clock stops ticking. \One-Shot *19


**Disclaimer : Gakuen Alice does not belong to me.**

* * *

 _Dada, I had never gotten around to showing you one of my stories, and now I'll never be able to.  
Perhaps someday I'll publish a novel, and if I do, I'll dedicate it to you.  
But till then, this little story is for you.  
_

* * *

 **Broken Escapement**

 ** _Sometimes, even the clock stops ticking._**

 **~(*)~**

She could hear the grandfather clock ticking away in the hallway, outside her grandpa's room.

It was an antique, which had been passed down the Sakura family for generations. Mikan never really liked that clock, for even during the night she could hear its incessant ticking and at every hour, she would hear its low pitched dongs ringing. But she had to admit, the clock had a strange beauty to it, with its exquisitely carved wood and intricate designs. It was no wonder that her grandpa adored it. So for his sake, she tolerated it. After all, her grandpa had done so much for her; he had even taken her in as his own granddaughter, treated her as if she were his very own kin, even though he had no obligation to.

As she sat down on the bed— her grandpa's bed — she couldn't help but feel a sharp twinge of remorse jolt through her.

 _I didn't even get to say goodbye…_

She had been at the Academy when she received the call from the village hospital, informing her that her grandpa had passed away. They told her that he had passed away in his sleep—in this very bed. And for that, Mikan was thankful. She hadn't wanted him to feel any pain, so she was glad that he passed away peacefully.

Her grandpa was old, very old. Although he was eighty-eight when his biological clock decided that it would not tick any further, her grandpa was quite active for his age. He would go to the grocery store almost every day and pick up his favorite fruits and vegetables. He would then come back home, one hand carrying the groceries, and the other one holding his walking stick, and cook for himself. Sometimes, he would even take a stroll in the evening, taking in the sun's last rays before night fell. His life was very simple, but that was exactly the way he loved it.

There were so many things that Mikan had yet to tell her grandpa: how she got promoted to two-stars from her single star, how Hotaru had been guaranteed a position by some big IT company from Tokyo, how Ruka had cured Piyo's illness or even how Natsume had finally reconciled with his father after seven years. But it was too late now. She could never tell her grandpa any of this.

Mikan's throat hitched at that thought and she could feel her tears clouding her vision. Letting them fall freely, Mikan slowly looked around the room. It was a small room, with just one small bed on the left corner, a tiny table and a rocking chair. Her eyes fell upon the table. On it were two pictures: one of her from when she was a mere six year old grinning gleefully, and another of her grandpa. She slowly got off the bed and walked over to the table. She gingerly picked up the picture of her grandpa. Mikan softly smiled. Her grandpa's grin outshone hers by miles. After all, he was the one who had taught her how to smile.

Right then, she heard the grandfather clock's bells ringing, indicating that an hour had already passed. Although she wanted to stay here a bit longer, she knew she had to go. Her time was up. Holding the picture of her grandpa in her hands, Mikan took one last glance at the room, and then walked out of the door. She was now in the narrow hallway, with the grandfather clock hanging on the wall at one end. She took her time to admire the clock, although it's ticking constantly annoyed her, the clock was beautiful. She thought about taking the clock with her back to the Academy and then shook her head. The clock was never hers in the first place, it was her grandpa's. Sighing softly, Mikan walked along the hallway and headed towards the front door.

As she walked out of the front door with the picture of her grandpa clutched tightly in her hands, she noticed that the hallway behind her was eerily quiet.

The clock had stopped ticking.

* * *

 **Carolle Royale**


End file.
